“I’ll be discussing prerequisites for Healing in class,” Lady Barb said. “The other tutors will be doing the same. Take their words to heart, consider them carefully, then choose wisely.”
“The Grandmaster said I would have to choose a major,” Emily said.
“He was right,” Lady Barb said. “I know you’re interested in everything, Emily, but you do have to choose a major for your final two years at Whitehall.”
She looked at the trunk. “Have you packed everything?”
“Just about,” Emily said. “I haven’t moved my letters yet.”
“Do that now,” Lady Barb ordered. “You’re in Room 4-01. I’ll take your trunk down; you can go down later, at five bells. Your roommates should have arrived by then.”
Emily hurried to obey. “I can take my trunk myself,” she said, as she hastily stuffed the letters into the trunk and the chat parchment into her pocket. “You don’t have to do it...”
“Tradition must be upheld,” Lady Barb said, sternly. Her blue eyes twinkled with amusement as she hefted the trunk with one hand. “Go to the library, Emily, or wander around the school. You shouldn’t get an edge on your roommates.”
She left, closing the door behind her. Emily sighed, made sure her dirty clothes were clearly marked for the maids, then stepped out the door herself. A handful of early arrivals - all boys - were walking down the corridor; they stared at her as she appeared, some with fear in their eyes, others with frank speculation. Not sexual, she knew, but something else, something hungry. Using the battery had made her a far more desirable match for anyone who wanted to infuse power into their families.
And it’s a trick, she thought, as she walked past them towards the library. I couldn’t muster that sort of power on my own.
She pushed the thought aside as she entered the library. It was open, but almost completely empty. Lady Aliya was standing behind her desk, looking through a colossal pile of newly-printed books, while a pair of younger students were standing in the stacks, frantically looking for reference material they’d need for their projects. Emily didn’t blame them for wanting to get ahead, not when she’d had to work through the holidays to get up to speed. It hadn’t been easy.
“Emily,” Lady Aliya said. “Have you come to help?”
“I could,” Emily said. She hadn’t had time to help in the library last year, when she’d been trying desperately to catch up with her friends, but now...she had time. “What would you like me to do?”
“These new textbooks all need to be charmed,” Lady Aliya said. “They’re going on the shelves for the First Years.”
Printed on my printing presses, Emily thought. What would it do to Whitehall when books were no longer scarce? Each and every one of the First Years could have their own copy, if they wished.
She worked her way through the pile of books, charming them one by one and then adding them to the trolleys to be put on the shelves. There was still no real order to the library, beyond a basic division by subject; it had always astonished her that someone, anyone, could actually find anything amid the chaos. But redesigning the library to use a modified version of the Library of Congress System would be impossible. It would be easier to start with a whole new library and catalogue the books as they came in.
I wonder if I could work as a librarian, she thought. Would I need experience for that?
She asked Lady Aliya, who frowned. “You’d have to work for the guild,” she said, after a moment. “I think they’d be glad to have you, but they would still insist on you taking the oaths. On the other hand...you could work for me, as an apprentice, for a year without sealing anything. That would let you decide if you wanted the job.”
Emily hesitated. “Is it a good job?”
“It would probably suit you, in some ways,” Lady Aliya said. “You like books, you’re good with them and you actually respect them. On the other hand, you wouldn’t have the option of saying no if you worked at a library and someone demanded knowledge. That isn’t a problem here, but in the White City...Emily, the librarians there have to share their knowledge with everyone.”
“So they might wind up giving knowledge to a Dark Wizard,” Emily mused.
“Among other things,” Lady Aliya said. “There are places where the librarians are sworn not to actually read the books, merely to tend to them. And other places where the librarians are practically chained to the bookshelves. We’re not meant to get involved in matters political - and you are a very political person.”
She picked up a stack of books and carried them over to the shelves. “Think about it, apprentice with me if you wish, then make up your mind,” she called back. “If you don’t like what you do, you won’t have to take the final step. But once you do take that step, you’re committed.”
Emily nodded, and turned her attention back to the new books. It hadn’t been easy, back when she’d been working as a library assistant, to put interesting books on the shelves when her brain had been demanding she sit down and start reading. She’d known it would have cost her the job, if she’d been caught, yet there had been days when she’d opened the books and allowed them to suck her in. At least Lady Aliya had allowed her to put some books aside to read when she wasn’t on the desk or shelving books. She doubted she would be allowed to do that if she was a library apprentice.
Or maybe I could, she thought. Had Lady Aliya ever held back a book so she could read it first? She didn’t know - but she wouldn’t, not if the Head Librarian chose to keep it from her. Lady Aliya knew far more than anyone else about hiding books within the stacks, or in her office. Maybe I should ask her about that, too...
She glanced at Lady Aliya, who was telling off a Third Year for some offense, and decided it would be better to ask later. Instead, she kept charming and shelving the books until her watch told her it was five bells, an hour before dinner was served in the Great Hall. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since before Shadye’s fortress had started to collapse, but she did her best to ignore it. She needed to see who her roommates were instead of eating dinner...
“That’s me,” she called. “Should I come back and finish the rest later?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lady Aliya said. “Just enjoy yourself.”
Emily left the room, feeling a leaden weight in her stomach. The first set of roommates she’d had had been picked at random, but she’d requested her friends for the second set and been denied. And she’d shared a room with Frieda for her Third Year...who would she have this time? She walked through the corridors, doing her best to ignore the glances and stares, until she found the entrance to the Third Year dorms. Madame Beauregard was standing outside, looking strict; Emily knew, from bitter experience, that the pinched-face woman made Lady Barb look soft.
“Room 4-01,” she snapped at Emily. “Your roommates are already there.”
“Thank you,” Emily said.
She stepped into the dorm corridor - it looked identical to the ones she’d used earlier, although the common room was larger and there were paintings hanging from the walls - and pressed her hand against the wooden door marked 4-01. It clicked open at her touch, revealing a room with three beds, three desks, three chairs, three wardrobes and a door at the rear leading to the bathroom and shower compartment. Emily hesitated, then stepped inside...
...And smiled as she saw her friends.
“Emily,” Alassa called, from where she was unpacking her trunk. “Welcome back!”
She stood and gave Emily a hug. Imaiqah sat up on her bed and waved, then stood to welcome Emily too. Emily felt tears pricking at her eyes as she hugged both of her friends, and glanced at her bed. It looked bare, as always, just waiting for her to make her bed and unpack her trunk.
“So,” Alassa said. “How was your trip?”
“Complex,” Emily said, finally. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “But I’ll tell you all about it tonight.”
Chapter Five
; “EMILY,” FRIEDA CALLED, AS EMILY STEPPED into the Dining Hall. “Come join me?”
Emily smiled at her younger friend, practically her younger sister, nodded and walked over to her table. Frieda was alone, even though she was entering Second Year; she’d come back early with Alassa and Imaiqah, rather than stay in Zangaria for another couple of days until the other Second Years arrived. Emily couldn’t help wondering why she was allowed to enter her bedroom early, but dismissed the thought. It was quite likely Frieda had been assigned a singleton for a couple of days, before her future roommates arrived.
“It’s good to see you again,” Frieda said, as she rose to her feet and gave Emily a quick hug. She wore a long blue dress that reminded Emily of her own, probably yet another gift from Queen Marlena. “I was hoping we’d be sharing a room again.”
Emily shook her head. “I think they wanted you to bunk with people your own age,” she said. She sat down next to Frieda and smiled as Alassa and Imaiqah sat facing them. “It’s supposed to be good for your social development or something.”
“Or something,” Imaiqah echoed, dryly. The three of them had asked to share a room for Second Year, only to be denied by Master Tor. “But you would be better off with roommates at the same level as yourself.”
Frieda looked at Emily. “Is that true?”
“It depends on who you get as roommates,” Emily muttered, uncomfortably. She hadn’t treated Frieda badly, not when they’d been sharing a room, but someone else with two years between her and her roommate might well rule the roost. “And you’d be able to invite more guests to your room.”
“I suppose,” Frieda said. She’d kept her friends out of the room they’d shared, although Emily had never been sure if she’d been trying to keep them from distracting the older girl or merely wanted somewhere peaceful she could retreat to, if necessary. “We’re going to be a lot busier this term, aren’t we?”
“There will be plenty of time to play Ken,” Alassa assured her. She winked at Emily. “I think Frieda will be the latest member of our team. We’re having try-outs at the end of the week, once everyone is back to school.”
“And for those of us who are actually intent on studying,” a new voice said, “we have to get back to work.”
Emily looked up and smiled as she saw the Gorgon, wearing her robes rather than a dress. “It’s good to see you again, too,” she said. “I dare say we can hide in the library while the try-outs are taking place.”
The Gorgon sat down, her greenish face tired. She had to travel farther than any of them, Emily knew, and might well have been denied access to some of the portals along the way. The Allied Lands had little classical racism, but it was perfectly legal to discriminate against gorgons, werewolves and others who had been touched by magic. And vampires could be exterminated on sight. She felt a stab of sympathy for her friend, wondering if there was anything she could do to deal with the problem. But so far she hadn’t been able to think of anything, besides making it clear that the Gorgon was her friend.
“I understand you were going to be working on your project,” the Gorgon said. “How did that go?”
“She wound up with a boyfriend,” Imaiqah said, quickly. “It was very sweet!”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Emily protested, feeling her cheeks heat. Beside her, Frieda giggled. “He isn’t...”
Imaiqah smirked. “We shall see,” she said. “But you did make it through to Fourth Year.”
“That’s very well done,” the Gorgon said.
“Thank you,” Emily said.
“I’m getting married,” Alassa said, drawing the conversation away from Emily. “You will be coming to the wedding, won’t you?”
The Gorgon looked shocked. “Would I be welcome?”
“By me,” Alassa said. “And Jade. And everyone else can go jump off the battlements.”
“Or throw you off the battlements,” the Gorgon predicted, mournfully. “That would be a tragic end to the wedding.”
“The last one was quite peaceful,” Alassa said. She nodded to Emily. “Of course, it did require someone to silence everyone with a spell.”
Emily nodded back, slowly. Markus and Melissa’s wedding had been small, with only a handful of guests. Melissa had deserved a bigger wedding, given what she’d had to do to get married to Markus, but she’d been disowned by her family. In the end, even her former friends had failed to make it. Emily couldn’t help feeling another stab of sympathy for someone who had started out as an enemy, or at least a rival. Melissa hadn’t deserved to be disowned, let alone cut off from her entire former life.
But at least she has Markus, Emily thought. They’ll get through it, won’t they?
“So I heard,” the Gorgon said, breaking into Emily’s thoughts. “I didn’t know you had that sort of power.”
Emily cringed, inwardly. Gorgon magic was strange, different; it wasn’t easy to undo their ability to turn someone into a stone statue. Emily had been caught in the Gorgon’s magic and it had taken nearly a week for Whitehall’s staff to free them both from the spell. No wonder so many people were scared of gorgons...and now, she suspected, they would be scared of her too. It wasn’t something she’d ever wanted.
“I was desperate,” she said, shortly. The Gorgon was brilliant - there was a fine mind in there, combined with two additional years of schooling - and quite perceptive. She might reason out that a trick had been involved, although Emily hoped she would never figure out how it was actually done. “I tried something and it worked.”
“Yeah, well everyone is talking about it,” the Gorgon said. “You’re going to have everyone staring at you this year.”
“Again,” Alassa put in.
“Try and steal the show,” Emily urged. “Talk about your wedding or something, please!”
“Wear a glamor,” Frieda suggested. “Pretend to be a younger student or something. Hang out with us in Second Year.”
Alassa giggled. “I don’t think she’d do that,” she said. “Really.”
Emily shook her head, slowly. It was rare for the older students to hang around with the younger students, even if they were related. They were on entirely different levels, or so they believed, and even talking to younger students made them look weak in the eyes of their equals. It had never made any sense to her, but then...she rarely tried to talk to anyone outside her circle. Frieda was something of an exception to the rule.
“Then you’ll just have to endure it,” the Gorgon said, briskly. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” Emily said.
“I hear Aloha has already returned to school,” the Gorgon said. “Have you seen her?”
Emily shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “I thought the upper classes were told to stay out of our way.”
“I think she’s in 5.07,” Imaiqah said. “That’s what she said on the chat parchment, anyway.”
“Be careful when you go there,” Frieda offered. “We were playing games up near the doors and they chased us away.”
“I think that had something to do with the racket you were making,” Imaiqah pointed out, dryly. “They were trying to study, weren’t they?”
“We were very quiet,” Frieda protested.
Emily smiled. She’d seen Frieda and her friends at play and quiet was not the word she would have used to describe them. The shouting and screaming alone was enough to put anyone off their work, while they had a tendency to run into empty classrooms and turn them into impromptu playrooms. For girls who were approaching seventeen, if they weren’t already there, they were remarkably childish. But then, at least they were enjoying themselves. It was more than could be said for herself before she’d come to Whitehall.
She looked up as dinner arrived: great steaming plates of goulash, bowls of noodles and boiled potatoes, slices of roast beef and chicken and giant tureens of soup. Frieda tucked in hastily, without anything resembling decorum; Emily shook her head in tired amusement before she started to ladle food onto her own plate. F
rieda had never had enough to eat before she’d met Emily; even now, she ate far more than seemed humanly possible at each meal. But she definitely needed the energy. Magic tapped the body’s reserves far more than any physical exercise.
And she really was too thin when we first met, Emily reminded herself. She needed to bulk up before she drained herself too far and died.
The food tasted heavenly, as always. Emily finished her plate and then pushed it into the center of the table rather than take another helping. It had always struck her as odd that Whitehall served so many different kinds of food, but perhaps, with students coming from all over the Allied Lands, it wasn’t strange at all. The food in Zangaria tended towards roast meat, overcooked potatoes and stewed vegetables. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it tended to get wearying after a while.
If someone had the money to buy meat, she reminded herself. Poaching wasn’t forbidden in Cockatrice - she’d never been inclined to go hunting, let alone reserve wide swathes of the forest for her personal use - but elsewhere it was harshly punished. The commoners are lucky if they get one helping of meat per week.
She pushed the thought aside, angrily. Here, in Whitehall, it was easy to forget about Cockatrice and her responsibilities there. But she couldn’t look away, not when she knew just how many injustices had been perpetrated on a daily basis. People had been whipped, murdered, or worse, just for offending the old baron in some way. It wasn’t something she could allow to continue...
“Hey,” Imaiqah said, quickly. “Look behind you.”
Emily turned - and smiled as she saw Caleb standing at the door, looking uncertain. She didn’t really blame him, not when he was being forced to repeat an entire year. It shouldn’t have shamed him, she thought, but she knew it did; it shamed anyone who had to remain in the lower classes when their peers had advanced to Year Five. Caleb was a year older than the students he had to join...
Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) Page 5